Prologue
The First Recording
‘Mamma…just killed a man…’ though it wasn’t simply a case of ‘…put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he’s dead.’ Oh no, what I did was much, much worse. And to be more specific, it wasn’t just a man I killed, but a woman as well. Two birds with one stone, if you will. And just to be clear, they weren’t my first. I’ve killed more people than you can imagine. These two, Billy Brown (such a dumbass name) and Susan Jones (how common can you get?), were just my first two in my hometown, to which I had recently returned. I’ve travelled far and wide in the pursuit of quenching my bloodlust, my need to kill and destroy. But it became boring after a while. There was no thrill in it anymore. Kill a few people in one town, move on to the next…it was anticlimactic. I’ve always been addicted to adrenaline and the thrill of the kill (hunters will know what I’m talking about here), and by travelling around, I got it only in small doses. I mean, what’s the point of killing when you can’t hang around afterwards and admire the ripple effects of what you’ve done? To read the newspaper reports, the social media posts, attend the funeral of your latest victim and bathe in the beautiful agony and heartbreak you’ve caused… that’s what I wanted. To see the mother breaking down next to the grave and the father put on his brave face (heaven forbid he cry in public) …that’s what I needed. And now I’ve found it. I’ve found a little town that would be any demented, psychopathic, sociopathic (choose your label here) killer’s wet dream come true, pun intended. The town is called Silver Falls, and as the name suggests, it’s the perfect postcard town. Small, isolated, surrounded by nature’s majesty, and now home to its next serial killer, namely me. I’m most assuredly not the first, but I do intend to be the one who causes the most trauma for the town, the one who will leave a scar on its pretty façade that will never be able to heal. You see, this town hides some very nasty secrets, and I intend to bring them to light; to show people that you can never fully hide your secrets. They will learn firsthand that secrets can indeed kill. You might be thinking, how would this be possible? Or that I will be caught at some point. And those are valid thoughts, but I will not be caught. Not before I’ve had my fun. Not to toot my own horn, but it would take a pretty damn special person to catch me, simply because I have the perfect cover. I’ve been back in town for almost two years now (after an absence of twenty years), and I’ve gotten to know the town and all its people. I bided my time, creating the perfect mask to wear and picking the perfect victims. No one would ever suspect me, and that is what would make the reveal (if I’m ever caught, that is) so much more intense and shocking. But more of that later, dear listeners. I must leave you now. I have two bodies to stage, after all. But I’ll be back. In the meantime, stay bad.
